


Fly for free, frying fan!

by Turkey_the_bird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack Fic, Danger of breaking of your brain probable, Dangerous, Dubious Content, EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE, F/M, GoT references, HP Plus VD equals SS, I'm Sorry, Logic? Eh? What is it?, M/M, Maybe for masochists, Parody, Rare Pairings, Reading - feelings of stroke inducing, SWS - Sense? What sense?, SWS 2 - Severus walks swiftly, Sorry yes Sorry, Sweet Side vs. Bitter Side, Weird Plot Shit, cringy content, dubious linguistic "jokes", everyone is everyone's father/son, everyone wants Severus' love, the weirdest ideas I read (and didn't read) in ff mixed together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2020-09-29 12:44:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20436236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turkey_the_bird/pseuds/Turkey_the_bird
Summary: This horrible comparison gave Harry strength to speak in capital letters. ‘I AM YOUR FATHER!’Snape only stared at him, so Harry tried to explain it quickly. ‘It hit me, when I realised that you must have extraordinary parents – when you are such a beauty – who passed the high-quality genes on you. And who else has more first-rate material other than Harry Potter and Vernon Dursley?’





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be just a parody of those cringy odd and horrible wattpad stories with tones of strange author’s notes and grammatical errors (and proof than even I can write something better).  
Alas, it didn’t turn out that way. I didn’t quite manage the strange author notes – but surely, I managed the grammatical errors. Not that I can say it was intentional (I am not native speaker so for example commas will be quite comatose), but it will be better if you think that it was intentional. Yeah. Every error was author’s intention.  
I don’t even know why I put this not even funny thing here. But I have a suspicion that my subconscious wants to know the name of my mental disorder guilty of creating this thing – so help, psycho(logist) reader!

Harry Potter was a strange boy. <strike>He was a boy with female body parts</strike> – ah, sorry guys, wrong fuckfiction 😉 (for now – bye, you Eskimos; to shorten it I will be using an acronym BYE. BYE.)

So all over again:

Harry Potter was a strange boy – even for a lizard. I am not going to describe how and how much – I think you will notice it on your own.

Harry was sitting in a dungeon, attending a Potions lesson. And Potions lessons meant only one thing – unbearable pain. It wasn’t that Harry hated the cellar room or the cellar bat – it was just the opposite. Anybody with a bit of brain loved professor Snape. And his very big muscles. And his beautiful yellowish skin. And his <strike>silk</strike> <strike>velvet </strike>polyester voice. And Harry – even if it didn’t look like it – , even Harry had a bit of brain – granted, it was very very little thing seen only with a scanning electron microscope, but it was there.

The pain was caused by the cruel reality. Harry could try a try to attract attention (and undying love) of professor Snape – or rather how Harry was calling him in his thoughts, batty Sevy – how he wanted, but the professor was so strong that he resisted Harry’s personal charm. At the beginning of this lesson, Harry was so desperate that he started blowing raspberries and flambéing them in the cauldron. When he offered professor the most luscious raspberry, Snape just ordered him to – you know.

At first, Harry lit up as a Christmas tree, because even though little Sevy wanted to go faster in their relationship than Harry expected, it was quite romantic love confession. However, how big was his disappointment when Sevykins started shouting and stopped him before Harry could do more than strip off his trousers.

Now, Harry was just sitting and staring at the beautiful man and his glittering hair.

_How can anybody be so fucking gorgeous? It is as though he wasn’t from this planet. His parents must have been definite-_

The whole world turned upside down (and threw away everyone who didn’t hold firmly).

How is it possible that he didn’t figure it out sooner?

The ethereal beauty, the unrelenting attraction, which Harry felt only for the ones of his kind…

It was all crystal clear. And it explained everything. But now he had to make Severus see it too.

***

‘What. Do. You. Want. Again. Potter! I am interested in no raspberries, blueberries, oranges, bananas and other fruit.’

Harry wanted to go slowly, but the mention of no bananas unsettled him, so he shoved Severus with his hand, which he had knocked on his door with, inside, ran in hurriedly after him and slammed the door shut.

‘I need-’ panted Harry, but Snape interrupted.

‘The only thing you need is transplantation of brain, you imbecile. I had always thought you are same as your father. But I was wrong.’

‘Oh, so you love me too?!’

Snape continued with disgusted voice, shuddering visibly. ‘In fact, you are hundred time worse than your father. I don’t know what you are playing at – but if you think I have so little self-restraint and throw my arms around you when I see the splendid flambéing in your cauldron, you are mistaken! And now you storm into my room as though it was your room to storm into!’

‘Sev-,’ Harry tried to defend himself weakly, but Snape ignored him and continued.

‘You blackhaired brat. You are worse than chips without fish.’

‘Sev-,’

‘Worse than Asylum the film company. Worse than D&D Star Wars films.’

This horrible comparison gave Harry strength to speak in capital letters. ‘I AM YOUR FATHER!’

Snape only stared at him, so Harry tried to explain it quickly. ‘It hit me, when I realised that you must have extraordinary parents – when you are such a beauty – who passed the high-quality genes on you. And who else has more first-rate material other than Harry Potter and Vernon Dursley?’

Batty Sevy flinched so violently that a glass with eel eyes dropped. Or better – a glass with eel eyes would have dropped if this had happened before arrival of the new headmaster. Believe or not – the new headmaster was fond of sweet things perhaps even more than Albus the Acid Pops Master, so instead of eel eyes it was only the muggle jelly-like edible eyeballs and one or two pairs of also edible, but not so jelly-like, maybe rather Gryffindorstudent-like ones which nested in Severus’ hair and made artwork more beautiful than even Jon Snow’s curls. 

‘Well, err, I knew that it would be a shock for you to know you share genes with somebody so awesome as me, so I said, to make it easier, that I am your father. Strictly speaking I am your mother.’ (Yeah, I was pulling your leg with the crossing the female organs – what would Harry Potter fuckfiction be without MPREG? And please don’t ask if I am five years old that I can think that boys have children: when the mother of Kit Harrington did the impossible and taught him how to speak (even if it’s only ten words), why couldn’t be males pregnant?)

‘Vernon is your father. But he doesn’t know it yet. In fact, we didn’t know we have a child. Yes, I gained weight during holidays, but I thought it is because of the sweets our headmaster sends me – and when I pooped something badly wrinkled, we thought it was just a tapeworm. But in fact, it was you! Can you believe it, Sevikins, my little son? We flushed you away – and yet you are here. Do you remember your daddy?’

Severus had been standing shocked for a while now. Everything fitted. It was so logical. It explained everything. The reason why he is so brilliant, handsome, why his hair seems to never grease (thanks, citrus toilet cleaner!), why he tends to have a tea party with Moaning Myrtle in the pipes…

However, one thing didn’t seem right. ‘Vernon? Isn’t Vernon Dursley your uncle? You were incesting and made me?!’

‘We aren’t blood-related. But it isn’t important for now, is it? What is important is that we found each other. Come to daddy.’

And Severus came. He sprinted to Harry and gripped his leg like a little child. ‘Dad, I am so glad I’ve found you. I’d missed hard and strict hand of a father my whole life, that’s why I am so bitter. Every time I failed an exam I had nobody t-to spank m-m-me. And now I finally do.’

In a moment, both of them, the father/mother and the son, were crying. ‘And I am not even born of incest!’ shouted Severus happily.

Harry narrowed his eyes. ‘Dunno, why it should bother you. Your half-brother is incesty. I hope it doesn’t mean you will look down on him for it!’

‘I have a brother?!’

‘Yeah, his name is Dudley. Although I don’t know, if I can call him your half-brother. Hmm, how is called the relationship when your mother is father of your brother? Well… never mind, he is your brother, and his mother is my aunt Petunia. Dudley is our golden boy.’

Before describing what happened after, I beg you all to stop before you judge (if I were a good writer, I would make the discourse-time longer, but I am obviously not a good writer, so I have to say it clearly) and please understand that Severus found out only a couple of minutes ago his whole life was a lie. He wasn’t born of unfulfilled love of a snake and a kettle, how he thought, but quite literally from Harry Potter (‘s hole). And his father’s been loving a son and caring for him for a long time. And Severus isn’t that son. Not at all.

Severus stiffly broke free from his father’s trouser leg, ignored his suggestion to compare their pics and apps, lifted and flicked his wand and transfigurated Harry into young snake. However, it brought only bad memories.

Longbottom’s long bottom wasn’t any better.

A few hundred transformations later, Severus took a short break and glanced around his room. It was in ruins – the reason for this the ill-conceived transfiguration of his fathermother in a blue whale cock. And still Severus couldn’t remember the information he had read some time ago in the handbook “What to do if one (or two) of your parents turns out to be Harry Potter” about what to transform Potter into.

At that moment, an owl flew through his closed window – which Severus naturally has, even though he lives three kilometres under the ground – and carried a message with headmaster’s handwriting.

And Severus suddenly knew what to do with Potter.

***

AAAAH, this is the end of chapter one. BYE (meaning bye, you Eskimos). Yeah, with use like that it would be shorter just write it whole, but it is too difficult for me to understand something complicated like this.

And sorry for insufficiently few clever author notes in the text, maybe more next time, I had to lay back down into my cradle. BYE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take off my imaginary hat for someone so brave who read perhaps this whole shitty thingy (and didn’t go nuts). The real notes are here and the notes in the text aren’t really metatext but part of the text made by imaginary young naïve pseudowriter. Thanks and sorry!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I want to thank the blessed person who subscribed this eh thing. Secondly, I am really curious if after this chapter (or maybe after this note, ha) the subscription stays or if they decide that it is too much. Most likely they clicked on it by accident anyway. But thanks all the same.  
Finally, I feel how I am getting closer to the wattpad level of language and grammar skills. And I didn’t want this to happen. I really can’t speak English. Wouldn’t probably survive reading this while being native.

Hi, I’m still here. And not alone. I am here with the second chapterkins. Second chapterkins, say hi.

Sorry for the delay, but I was counting whether the one hundred thousand likes plus three are more than one hundred thousand one, which I got last time – thanks to my extremely successful detective story “Who strangled Donald?”.

Enjoy, kiss, xoxoxoxoxoxoxololxoxoxoxoxolol :DDD :D :DD :D :DDD (lol, emoji palindrome, I am sooooo funny)!

(Can you give me advice which calculator I should buy? Because it seems it will be moooore than one hundred thousand likes this time too, and there isn’t enough space for _other_ one thousand new abacuses in my bedroom.)

***

‘Frog Fondue,’ barked Severus Snape. The gargoyle slid aside.

If there is something that Severus held against the new headmaster – well, excluding the _sweet_ jelly eyes, _sweet_ dinners eight times per week, the obligation to, instead of adding house points, give _sweet_ bonbons to students, the obligation to, instead of taking house points, give _sweet_ bonbons to students (you can find more about the headmaster’s new teaching method carrot (cake) and carrot (cake) in an exclusive edition of the school magazine _Sticks are passé, nowadays levitating lollypops are in (you can lick anywhere – even with your hands in acromantula’s mouth; special offer now – three levitating lollypops for the price of one finger) _and the goddamn obsession with alliteration – it was the passwords to the headmaster’s office. How was Severus foolish to think that after the unexpected and fast Albus’s decision to retire – ‘I have been longing for the round-around-tour to examine all of the museum’s of bonbons for a long time’ – he would get rid of the infantile teeth-destroying passwords. He lived to see only the sudden disappearance of house-elves and Blast-Ended Skrewts.

Severus reached the green door of the headmaster’s office, but suddenly he was attacked by a panic attack. (So what? I am not thesa-thesaur-theranosaurus, am I? I think it is art, BYE and CU. CU as for carbohydrate unicorns.) Snape respected Florian Fortescue, but each time after his visit he soaked up the smell (and other things) of sweetness, and therefore he had to spend half a day in a decontamination reactor in a nuclear power plant to avoid his death by the hands of the Bitter Lord – or worse, a hour-lasting-spell causing birth pangs.

He straightened up, held his breath and knocked. Marzipan got stuck between his finger joints.

‘Ah, Severus,’ he heard Florean when he came in. Headmaster, with hat made of one gigantic ice cream cornet turned upside down, stepped out of his rainbow-coloured (so no black, alas, Severus) ice cream van. ‘Bat bar?’

‘No, thank you.’ Severus tried to sound as though he wasn’t sick of the idea to eat one of his relatives coated in blackberry icing. Oh, frizzled bat, he wouldn’t refuse, but the blackberry icing?

‘And what about donkey doughnut?’

_One crispy Gryffindor eye with Hufflepuff dressing, two crispy Gryffindor eyes with Hufflepuff dressing…_ Severus counted in his mind to calm down.

‘Headmaster…’

‘Who do you think is my favourite medieval witch who didn’t burn?’

_Ten crispy Gryffindor eyes with Hufflepuff dressing. Eleven crispy Gryffindor eyes with Hufflepuff dressing._

‘Wendelin the Weird?’ sighed Severus.

‘Can I ask why do you think that?’

‘You know… **W**endelin the **W**eird.’

‘Oh, you are so narrowminded – to think I choose my favourites because of their names… But I forgive you, of course, because even with wrong reasoning you are right, and after all, you, Severus Snape, are one of my favourite professors, somewhere on my list between Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick-’

‘Why did you want to see me?’

‘Can’t I just want to speak with my favourite professor?’

‘You know how it is dangerous for me here. The Bitter Lord can call any minute.’

‘Of course, of course. I’ve just wanted to know if you finally managed to make the chocolate with 120% cocoa and 130% sugar, which I politely demanded?’

‘Well…’ Severus hesitated, and the headmaster’s beaming smile disappeared. The van in the background started to shake and a small amount of strawberry ice cream landed dangerously near Severus’s shoes.

Severus flinched. Strawberry ice cream, please no!

‘Oh, sorry, I am calm most of the times, but when speaking about sweets, I know no friend.’

Severus took a deep breath. He must calm him down, before something bad and pink happens. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t have what you ordered for you, raspberries were disturbing me, err well… However, I do have something what could cheer you up.’ From one of his 394 pockets in his cloak he took out a shiny beetle.

‘This is a dung beetle. Geotrupidae. Extraordinary specimen. It is known how dung beetles are hardworking and have a stable job. Not this one. It wasn’t hardworking – regarding some aspects of its life. In other aspects it was _too_ hardworking – if you know what I mean. And it hadn’t touched dung in its pitiful life. Only the one in its head, where brain usually is.’

‘Let me see!’ Headmaster yanked the bug out of Severus’s hand impatiently. ‘Hmm, you are right, Severus. It didn’t occur to me – but why not? Albus loved Cockroach Clusters after all…’

Before Severus could process what was happening, Fortescue put the bug into his mouth.

‘Mmmmmm. Coconut flavour? No, it is-‘

Severus finally recovered from the shock and squealed indignantly. ‘You swallowed my mother!’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I didn’t give it to you to eat it! I wanted you to do the special bug juice of yours with limited edition of adding my mother’s flavour.’

‘Mother? Oh, dear Severus, I am sorry. I am so so sorry that your mother is a bug. I thought it was a pressure cooker?’

‘Kettle,’ Severus gritted his teeth and icy roads. _T__wo hundred and thirty thousand eight hundred nine__ crispy Gryffindor eyes with Hufflepuff dressing_. ‘Or so they claimed on fanfiction.net. However, it seems I am as ordinary as everybody else, and have a human for a mother.’

‘A human, do you say? My Severus, you transfigurated your poor mother into a bug?’ Florean was obviously puzzled for a second, but he isn’t called the most brilliant person and the winner of Miss Elbow Competition (Never, never mention it in front of Severus. He hasn’t come to terms with this defeat – before Florean, he had been the most attractive professor in Hogwarts, winner of all Misters, Misses and Loses – how he looked so marvellous in those tight black dress accentuating his supraorbital ridges…) for nothing, and he deduced the most likely scenario. ‘Somebody from the students?’

‘It is Potter,’ admitted Severus.

‘Fine.’ Fortescue didn’t carry on and examined his reflection in the jelly mirror.

This is the moment when maybe some of you will want to click on the tempting back button and stop reading with an incredulous shake of head. But I beg you to hear me out. Yeah, some things can be tolerated. For example, advertisements before videos. The fact that Melisandra cut Jon’s soft hair and he didn’t kill her for it? Worse, but we can stomach it. The advertisements_ after_ videos? Even worse. The fact that after the reveal of identity of Severus’s mother Florean only takes a nibble of gelatine? What would you want? Maybe green grass, clean sea and polite presidents, you complainers?! It’s so logical! Naturally it is Potter! But that Florean Fortescue, author of record for the longest sentence created with words starting with F and alliteration master (he defeated even JKR), this Florean Fortescue says only fine, when he has a big opportunity to add at least one food attribute? (Even _I _had alliteration in this paragraph. Did you catch it? Yes, back button, I am amazing, I know, thank you.) Yeah, it is OOC (I never learned what that means, but I guess something like Oh oh, crap) and unforgivable and intolerable, but I just wanted to show how much headmaster is thrown off due to the lack of sweets.

After a moment of silence, headmaster continued. ‘Don’t worry, Severus, Harry should appear in my gingerbread toilet in two three days. Depending on how many strawberries with whipping cream I have. And then we can extract the bug juice. Chocolate candy?’

He was saved from Severus’s icy gaze due to two facts. A) His abrupt motion with intention to grab two chocolate candies caused his ice cream cornet to fall and cover his eyes. B) Severus suddenly experienced an unnatural craving for a lemon peel, and felt fear filling him. (3 fucking _F_s, you don’t deserve me). The Most Bitter Lord is calling.

***

No new ships this time? *sob* I swear in next chapters we will find other great romantic pairings *wink*

I must compliment myself for the amazing notes in the text. Last time, I wasn’t satisfied with them – this time there is a damn lot more of them and they are so … *silly giggle*

CU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cough, cough. They are really cringy and irritating, the pseudoauthor’s notes, aren’t they?  
Nothing of too much importance (like one more parents reveal) happened (Cause the chapter would be too long. Cause 1500 words are very, err, much, I know 😉 ), no Harry, no Voldy… but it will change. Mayhaps. If the ao3 doesn’t collapse sooner because of this shit.  
In my first language, sugar and whip is the synonym for English ‘carrot and stick’ and I find it more matching and er sweet than the carrot one, but what can I do… I needed to write it here because after a month I wouldn’t know why the hell I babbled about levitating lollipops and sticks.
> 
> Leave a little commentkins, kudoskins or anythingkins – AH, what the hell are you doing here, giggling girl? Go back to the story! Get out of the paratext! Shoo!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beauty and suffering go hand in hand. Poor Severus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add relationship tags. I know someone complains when there are these tags, someone when they are missing - just please don't kill me.

Severus ran, scooted, rushed, hobbled through the labyrinthine corridors. With his athletic build not being out of breath, he gasped and panted. His hair, illuminated by the nocturnal sun, stuck lank to his skin and freely and elegantly flew in the air when he was shivering with cold when passing the burning corridors. In the dull, weak, blinding light of aftermoon noon, specks of sour sugar, which Sour Patch Kids are coated with, were hanging in the air – sugar was falling out of his hair unintentionally and deliberately as a prove of his meeting with the headmaster, which took place barely a 381 seconds ago…

_Although only one two epochs passed since the call, Severus must hurry… Nobody, nothing, nothing at all could stop him now from completing his mission. To the Bitter Lord, to Master, oh, the lemon peel, where is the lemon peel? Nothing can stop him, he must get to the lemon peel immediately, nothing will stop him…_ Suddenly Severus saw Arnold Schwarzenegger head to him from the other side of the corridor and he stopped.

‘Not now,’ he hissed. ‘I’ve told you already. Next Saturday.’ He didn’t worry about the first part –namely, comparing their infamous pecs – of their measuring contest; it was the second part he wasn’t sure with. He hadn’t managed yet to make a potion which would enlarge his nostrils without side effects (the accident when Messenger emojis had covered his whole body still made him wake up screaming at night).

‘I know, Sevvy,’ hummed Arny coquettishly. ‘So I don’t need them till Saturday. Didn’t you see Kit? He wanted to borrow the whole kit. He needs it because of those Pompeii. Did you know…’

Severus didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. Again, he was assaulted by the unbearable longing for lemon peel. _Where are you?_

He went as a Zumbie on and on. One step left, two steps front, lemon peel, clap your hands and turn, lemon peel, on and on.

All of sudden, his vision went black. Severus sighed when it dawned on him what he saw – or rather what he didn’t see. Manticored hands had covered his eyes. Severus ripped them off roughly.

‘Court banned you from coming near me,’ he growled at the good-looking man in his thirties, man, who has made Severus victim of stalking, harassment and strong obsession at least for two centuries. ‘I tell you, I don’t _care _you don’t take drugs anymore or don’t use Nicotine Patches or the cursed stinking pipe from the Chamber of Secrets. I don’t give a damn you are now addicted to my – yes, by the way, really appealing – scent. Clear off,’ he added and shove away the man’s nose which was sniffing dangerously nearby. ‘How did you find me actually? Nobody knows which way I go.’

The man spoke for the first time. ‘I am Shermes Hollock after all. How my motto says – in physics there is induction, I’d rather love deduction. I notice the subtlest clues and for my brilliant mind it is enough. And also,’ Shermes waved to Severus’s shoes, ‘you have been leaving traces of whipped cream.’

Severus followed his gaze – and indeed, his boots were entirely white, which would perhaps develop later into serious PTSD, smeared with whipped cream. He glanced back at all the labyrinthine corridors that are really very labyrinthine, but Severus can see through them anyway — and yes, the footprints began in front of Florean Fortescue’s door.

_So Potter will be out sooner than I expected_, he mused.

‘Oh, Sev…’ Hollock babbled. ‘I can’t bear it anymore without you. At least give me some nightgown to sniff, please.‘

Severus jerked his head contemptuously and turned on his heel. NOT that he was doing it because turning on his heel was his crazy pastime, it was a purely practical reason. Not only did he look unrivalledly sexy and created thus an essential part of his description for every fanfiction, but if he turned slowly like a normal mortal, contents of half of his 394 (now only 393, because one was empty when he took out his motherfather, two pralines, six scoops of Aloe Vera ice cream and 13 dandruffs in a sweet-and-sweet pickle, that Florean had somehow slipped into it) pockets would spill out. This jerky movement caused that happened exactly that what happens when you lift a bucket of water over your head fast and correctly (don’t come to me crying that you are wet – I am not to be blamed for my stupidity – my parents are and their genes – and certainly not for yours. Cause I eat brain cells only on special occasions, like when the numbers on the clock are nice. (Like 11:11. 22:22. 33:33. 123:456.) So not often.) and the water stays in the bucket.

Turning on his heel is simply the only reason why you don't have to know about the contents of Severuskins's other 393 pockets now (I save it for another time, haha). If it does not seem right to the experts of physical laws? Severus and the omniscient narrator are not omniscient – eh, the omniscient narrator _is_ omniscient, but physical laws don’t count. So I just say that it is so, whether it is or not. For I follow the motto – and I suggest that you also start if you plan to continue reading this story (which I probably don't recommend) – by Donkey & Dumb: _it is weird. But so is this fuckfiction_.

Severus had just dropped his oars and stepped out of his yacht he had sailed through the sand dune on the third floor when she ran past him and almost knocked him of his feet.

The small cat, with marks around her ears resembling ear-trumpets, came to a halt and a moment later there was standing a dishevelled professor instead.

‘Oh, I am sorry, Severus,’ said Minerva McGonagall. ‘I didn’t see you. I was hunting – er, looking for-‘

Severus interrupted her. He couldn’t help it. He _must_ know. ‘Are you the one who is Florean’s more favourite professor? Or is it Flitwick?’

‘WHAT? Excuse me, Severus, I can’t hear you, I forgot my ear-trumpets.’ Severus didn’t know what was so delicious about this sentence that Minerva started drooling, but he learnt long time ago not to be surprised anymore. Nothing could be weirder than the offer by Lupin and Skeeter whether he doesn’t want to join them in their not so innocent _activities_ in the fullmoonlight in his Animagus form. Severus hadn’t care much for bugs even before the fiasco with his father, and on top of that, his bat is allergic to werewolf fur, so he had to refuse, even if it pained him greatly.

‘Never mind,’ he came back to chronological order of the chapter. ‘What are you looking for, Minerva?’

‘Catfish,’ came the reply and Severus had to step back because the puddle of spit expanded tenfold. ‘There is, meow, catfish so_meow_here here, I know it! I meowust have it! Didn’t you see it anywhere, Severus?’ Her eyes suddenly narrowed suspiciously. ‘Didn’t you eat my raw catfish, Severus Snape?’

Why must everyone want to love him or to kill him? He just wants the lemon peel, for the lemon’s sake!

‘No, Minerva. Did you try Accio?’

Funnily, she was all in sudden embarrassed – Severus could tell because three whiskers sprouted from her nose.

‘Nothing is better than to catch your prey with your meown paws and teeth and hear how the bones crack. Besides, I, um,’ she hesitated, ‘I can’t do the Accio spell.’ After Severus’s scandalized gasp, she started to defend herself. ‘But it isn’t my fault! You know it is very difficult! Potter managed it only because of the Triwizard Tournament. I wasn’t in the Triwizard Tournament so I can't do it. Besides, to get to Fluffy and the Philosopher's stone you need to only know Alohomora, so why to learn?'

Before she could ask if Severus was in the Triwizard Tournament or how it is possible that he can do the summoning spell, splashing sound could be heard. It came out of Forbidden Forest, in front of which Severus with Minerva the cat moved unnoticed from the third floor when you didn’t pay attention and gulped down their dialog with bated breath. The splashing sound suspiciously resembled bouncing of catfish on the earth trying to escape from a crazy drooling catwoman.

Minerva obviously interpreted the sound similarly, but except of the aspect “crazy” – Severus guessed. She screamed: ‘CATFISH!’, transformed quickly into cat again and darted in the direction of the sound.

Before she disappeared from view, Severus heard her last meow, sounding a lot like ‘I’ll eat you with a mouse tail’.

He turned on the spot and finally apparated to the lemon peel.

However, in the middle of the apparition, he realized he had forgotten about the contamination caused by his visit to the headmaster’s office and returned back to the forest – no cat or fish or catfish to be seen –, and tried to quickly remove all the traces of saccharides. The pockets of his cloak had been already checked, now he took out of his hood a coconut [ʃeɪk] (no Arab had been injured during its production), he washed his hands with sulfuric acid and tried and failed to remove the whipped cream from his shoes. Finally, with a painful pang there where other people have heart, he threw his shoes away – a moment later, an excited and relieved sigh and sound of an intake of a large amount of air could be heard – and checked everything for the last time. Something in the back of his mind whispered he had forgotten something, but Severus had been longing for the lemon peel for too long and he disapparated.

***

_I am angry (so angry that I don’t have new abbreviation for you) – just you to know! Cause the comments happened._

_You say – angry because someone comments, the haughty shit? Well – yes, but because of the _kind _of comments! _

_Everyone but one of you praised Florean Fortescue’s charm and body and skills and ------. Yeah, it is good you like him! But you shouldn’t praise him! You should praise ME! My skills, amazingness – and yeah, modesty._

_And I don’t even talk about the last comment (or do I?)._

_That insolence! _He_ even didn’t read the story – only my notes for the second chapter. He dared to ask if I can tell him **for free** who committed that crime described in the title of my detective story. Like what the hell? I don’t care he is afraid for his health and safety – if he wants to know who wants to strangle him, he needs to buy my book – surely as a president he can afford it, can’t he?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was making fun of characters, narrators, writers, writing, logic, ships, presidents, why wouldn’t I make fun of the system in Hogwarts?  
Next time we will see our dear Bitter Lord.


	4. Chapter 4

‘Well, Severus? What about Potter? Hasn’t he made the product yet, the only one which can endanger me and my bitterrule over the markets?’ The Bitter Lord was standing in front of a heap of limbs and limbs of his most foolish and at the moment also shabby supporters/servants, and he sipped the Gurdyroot infusion with the help of his favourite umbrella straw. Lovegoods will forever have his gratitude, for they managed to create something so disgusting that even _Florean’s Flavouring (fitting for foul food)_ couldn’t make it better.

Snape didn’t respond, busy pushing back and trying to get to the lemon peel bowl that was always waiting for him when he was called.

‘Enough!’ Voldemort ordered. ‘You'll get the rest the next time.’ No one dared to protest, but there was a whimper now and then.

Severus didn’t speak up until he finished enjoying and chewing the last piece of lemon peel he had taken from Crabbe's hands at the last moment. 'No, my lord, you don't have to worry about Potter anymore. I wouldn't expect him to be able to create something in his beetle form, especially in the let’s say steam environment, where he currently is.’

‘What are you talking about?’ the Bitter Lord growled low in his high voice. ‘Didn't I say Potter was mine?! Only my brand-name products can get rid of him, no one else! No one else has the right to do so.’

'My lord, I think my right is bigger – for we are a family. I'm his son.’ Under his breath, which he had hanged high in the air only for this occasion, he murmured: ‘As the whale Dudley Dursley.’

The Bitter Lord suddenly changed completely. Even his face suddenly looked different. It took a moment for Severus to realize that salmon pink and pear green polka-dots appeared on his forehead, meanwhile his non-existent nose turned stars-and-stripes-red. ‘What? Severus? Dudley Dursley?’

‘Yes, my lord, Potter is his father.’

‘In that case, everything changes,’ the Bitter Lord said thoughtfully. ‘I don't care how you do it, but you bring me that Potter boy. And whole. No spells, am I clear? We are conservative wizards, tradition is tradition. I want to ask him for the hand of his son.’

‘Oh, my most bitter Lord,’ Lucius Malfoy said in a bootlicking tone. ‘I have a knife here, we can just cut Severus's hand off—' Severus’s hand, from which three biting piranhas were swinging, jerked involuntary.

‘I mean Dudley Dursley, you thickhead!’

‘So h-him, Your Bitterness, my most merciful, most capable lord. It is a Muggle, after all, it won't be too much of a— ‘

(Severus smirked. The Malfoys were oddly too little sycophantic, and as if cold for some time. if Severus remembered, it began around the time they managed to lure Albus Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, but they were not praised, for Florean Fortescue turned out to be even more capable rival of the Bitter Lord. This completely objective sentence was a good example for this.)

‘Never talk about Duddykins like that again. He is too shy to brag about his tremendous power, but he's a wizard! And I don't need to cut his hand, I have enough cooking spoons of wrist bones presently,’ Wormtail sobbed from far away, ‘I just want his hand metaphorically, you know?’

Severus was silent. Although he hated Potter – now even more than ever (DUDLEY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) – he wasn’t 100 % a dick (which is a reference to Guardians of the Galaxy and if you didn’t see it, Severus won’t like you). He knew Potter was the supposed Chosen One of that important prophecy. He is to be the hero who helps his team, and for the first time in history the whole England to win the uranium medal in american football during the Winter Olympics. (And if Voldemort interpreted the prophecy differently, it's his business.)

‘My lord… you know it is not possible. For two years since you came back you have asked me to bring you Potter million times because nothing would be easier. He was often in the same room, sometimes even alone with me while learning Occlumency – er, I shouldn’t have told you about that –, but my excuses have always been great. Perhaps I would lose the confidence of Albus Dumbledore, although the information about him was always only about his lunch in the Great Hall, because his recipes were jealously guarded. Or that Potter might be able to defend himself. No, it wasn't a vulture,’ he reacted to all sorts of lifting heads up to the sky, ‘it was my laugh. Or that it wouldn't fit in with the plot of what JK intended for us, so she made you a fool to believe me or not even to ask. So I ask you honestly now – do you think I can't think of another bulletproof excuse?’

*JKR hears him from her alterna(tora)te universe, where she is currently slicing John Tiffany and Aliser Thorne for dinner, and only for her amusement burrows Voldemort IQ of Greta Thunberg.*

‘Severus, I think you are evading, how dare you! Or at least a woman's voice whispers in my head. What? Shall I say “scream in my head”? It seems to me that you have been neglecting your duties lately. Do you recycle? You haven't even drunk my Gurdyroot invasion today (made with null amount of carbon monoxide), nor have you asked for a flogging. Perhaps you need some motiva—’ The Lord of All Bitter paused, staring at Severus' shoulder.

‘What is it, Severus?’ he said ominously and quietly. ‘Dandruff? Well?! Didn't you say you could create a shampoo that completely rids you of all dandruff? Because you certainly know how I hate dandruff. That is why I have a bald head and almost no nose – because there is dandruff hair in a nose as well.’

_Ha. I can imagine your sighs. You are pointed, appointed and disappointed. You say: ‘It is totally like D&D. Starts eight million of amazing plot lines and doesn’t finish any of them – and now starts something about dandruff. Blah blah blah. And I bet they (cause I know you are all gender correct) forgot all about Harry in gastrointestinal tract – or about that!!! They forgot about that, about which Severus had supposedly forgotten. And they probably don’t finish this great idea either.’ _

_I am soo glad you thought right about Harry and Severus’s problem. Because it fits beautifully. Almost as though it wasn’t you who complained, but my invisible friend. _

Severus didn't understand. Just two months ago he washed his head with his shampoo! He followed Voldemort's gaze, resting with cool rage in the middle of Severus’s back. Severus turned his head and look at that damn place too (Severus doesn’t resemble and isn’t distantly related just to bats, his great-great-great-great-grandaunt (how he found out by a shop assistant in Walmart off-screen) was an owl). His heart stopped for three minutes and six seconds, and only after successful resuscitation, including 20 mouth-to-ear-breaths by meds students, who will probably never finish school as it seems, Wormtail's spray against worms and other parasites and 36 Austria Kisses from Arny S., Severus had enough time to formulate monologue in his head.

_Why the hell do I have twenty gallons of somebody’s else saliva in my mouth?_

After successfully flooding out two molehills, he continued to think. He now knew what he had omitted at the end of the last chapter. And the fact was terrible. If the Bitter Lord came a little closer and found out what really was on Severus's back… Severus had to act quickly.

‘My lord, you're right, I'm sorry. You have really perfect baldness. It is indeed dandruff, my lord, punish me as you like, but when I get back with Potter. And I'll be back. I promise. Eh, I wanted to say it differently – I'll bring you Potter if you don't punish me. And your ruin of nose is really piece of work. And I should go to ensure Potter won’t be eaten by some anteater. But I just want to tell you it's not my dandruff. I flew like a bat and swept all the webs at Hogwarts – and even spiders have dandruff. So excuse me,’ he backed respectfully at every step. ‘Er, my lord,’ he bowed stiffly – it was a strange bow that made him look like a snake woman, forcing his back in a horizontal position and helding his head high as much as he could to prevent the sour sugar from falling down. Because yes. That's what he’d forgotten. He’d forgotten to get rid of 300 grams of sour Sour Patch Kids sugar stuck in his hair!

He did not wait for Voldemort's reaction, who was fortunately dealing drugs with the question of people being evil or superevil, and disappareted.

When Severus saw the dark silhouette of the Hogwarts castle in front of him, he breathed a sigh of relief and began combing his hair with a crab comb.

Yes, he likes sport, but his stolen motto – better them than me – was fitting. Potter will have to say goodbye to life, because Severus just can’t survive another two days long menstruation conjured up by the Bitter Lord.

It is time to find out how fast the metabolism of the headmaster is. If only he was already in the descending colon, the transverse colon would not be also bad, Severus wouldn’t mind even the ascending colon – but, God, please, don't let the idiot get lost in the appendix. Not even Severus’s new chilli cottage syrup could help.

***

I don’t have anything to say. You already know how I am good, so BYE and CU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was later than I would like, but studies are hard. Dunno when I will update again (probably after moore than month, not than someone gives a shit:D), ‘cause I don’t have the time and I can see nobody really cares about my first question (aka am I mental?) and at all, which I get, because this is mental and well… My imaginary stupid irritating alteregowriter is asleep. Nothing to say. (Say, it rhymes with prey!)  
(Probably even more mistakes then usually, didn't reread, but mistakes are art!)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hi, everyone! I am back with a chapter everyone wanted (to not be written). But it is for the subscriptions, which I can’t still get my head around (thanks, the new subscriber, even if I don’t know why are you so masochistic).  
This chapter is my favourite – yeah, it means it is even greater (pink) shit than before. And with a pic. Alas, not a pic of Severus’s pec.

It turned out that Potter wasn't in the ascending colon, descending colon, transverse colon, not even in the punctuation colon – Severus had to, wearing dragon-hide gloves (and don’t tell me this isn’t cruelty to animals? Or e. g. the wand materials – so called mister Ollivander (or rather Killypander?) uses phoenix feathers, unicorn hair and dragon heartstring (okay, I know the last one is weak example and doesn’t harm the animal)) pull him out of Florean’s gingerbread toilet, fluffy pink, er, whipped cream everywhere. (In the meantime, he had to continually resist the attack of Florean’s platter with various – but similarly disgusting – sweets.)

Severus disappeared from headmaster’s office before he could get another seizure of pneumocarbohydratis – ‘Have fun with Voldy!’ headmaster shouted after him – and immediately transformed Potter into a man again. (Well, the blue whale cock flicked there couple of times, but you don’t have to blab it out to everyone, do you?) He was very strong, but halfway a bat all the same – and the sweets had tangled his stomach so badly, that he had craved for some good snack, even though the small beetle was covered in some pink filth, and he had to humanize Potter immediately, otherwise he would not have to wash away only the pink colour but also the colour of his own guts. Yes, you guessed it – turquoise orange.

Severus wanted to get to the Bitter Lord quickly, but Potter didn’t react to slaps to the head, rapped lullaby, and not even to Severus’s strip show from his eight robes, leaving only six left.

Severus will have to bring him to Voldemort in other way…

Severus took light Potter gently into his arms and started walking across the Hogwarts – he had to place him on the chandelier for a while, there on the shelf (because of bedsores). He took him to his quarters and laid him on his couch to offer him a glass of ginger lemonade.

Severus was truly generous and merciful, and this gentleness seemed to have an effect on Potter when he, only moments before stepping into the Forbidden Forest, stirred adorably and mumbled something that was probably ‘Wow.’ Severus laid his mummy in gauze, whom he had forgiven long time ago, softly on the ground, waking Harry in the process. He opened his beautiful purple eyes (TARGARYENS ARE EVERYWHERE!!!!) and at that moment he flinched violently. And he began to panic – certainly for a good reason.

Severus watched in horror as Harry grabbed his own eyeballs, clawed them, tried to stab them on his fingernails, and then pulled one out – thanks to Severus's quick-witted help in the form of a skewer (Severus always wears skewers in his pockets – you never know when hairstyle à la Japanese may come in handy).

After that Potter – with a surprising amount of rapidity of a sloth – sprang up and swiftly extracted a jelly-like edible eyeball from Severus’ ear, where it had been parasitizing since the middle of the first chapter. (I hope you still remember it. Details! Details are everything.) He forced the curiously blinking Trichinella spiralis, which tried to escape, back into his eye socket and imprisoned it there with his new eyeball. He closed his own eye and glanced around only with the jelly one (green colour doesn’t suit him, thought Severus), but it didn’t seemed he calmed down. Quite the contrary. He started yelling.

‘PINK! PINK EVERYWHERE! HELP! HEEEEEEEEELP!!!!!!!!!!! IS SOME SHIT ON ME? SEVERUS? WHY IS EVERYTHING PINK? IT ISN’T BECAUSE OF MY EYES, SO WHYY? DID THE FLOREAN’S EXCREMENTS SOAK INTO MY BRAIN? NOOOOOOOO!’

‘Calm down, Potter. The problem isn’t in you, although I am saddened I was forced to say that. The world turned pink.’ This false calmness proved Severus’ brilliant acting skills. He couldn’t think about it. Or better, he _had_ to think about the fact that now he can’t look at any part of his body and definitely not take a selfie – if he saw his now pink hair…

Suddenly a frightened scream spread through the air. Potter pointed to – NO! Severus started to scream too.

It was pink as everything else. A KEYHOLE!

Nothing worse could happen, so Potter visibly settled down. ‘Sir, why am I so damaged?’

Severus reached into his pocket and took out a pink envelope, a note for Harry from the headmaster. Miraculously, the script remained green. Otherwise it would be illegible.

_I'm sorry about the bruises, you got out faster than I expected. Long live whipped cream! _

‘But it mentions only bruises, not abrasions and fractures and bulges on a head—' Harry's sentence was interrupted by vomiting. ‘I feel sick.’

‘A concussion, I guess. I had no idea something like this was possible with your minibrain, but you can surprise with really anything.’

‘But how did it happen?’

‘I have no idea,’ Severus lied promptly. In his mind’s Windows Media Player, however, flashback has already started playing.

(And now I will show you how much the narrator can be unreliable! Let's go back to the moment of Potter's unresponsiveness:)

Potter didn't react. Severus kicked him, pulled him up roughly by the hair and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. But Potter was unbelievably fat, so it's no wonder Severus dropped him to the ground when the catfish dashed out past them, followed by one spitting Minerva. Given that he had torn all Potter’s hair out, he had to do it differently now and grabbed Potter's legs. He dragged and dragged him, holding his legs, and Potter's head smashed delightfully into the floor, here into the chandelier, into the shelf over there. He took him to his quarters just to hit Potter thoroughly with the corner of his ivory couch, and then offered himself a glass of ginger homemade lemonade. (He couldn't really admit it was homemade – you would drink it all!)

Severus was truly generous and merciful (he wouldn't lie about that, that's obvious), and the precisely measured roughness seemed to have an effect on Potter — Severus felt how he stirred (or was it a feeling of a new bulge growing?) when he threw him viciously against the top of the Eiffel Tower, and he heard Potter sob, ‘Auch!’ Then he picked up the dumb son of a bitch, whom he will never forgive anything (especially not the pink stains on his robes), as a weightlifter lifts a barbell, and dropped him to the ground, thereby killing all of the peacocks on Madagascar (hence no one has ever heard of peacocks on Madagascar).

At that moment Severus neighed, tossed his mane, and returned to the present.

‘As I say, Potter, you probably collided with the kidney stones. But the concussion will not bother the Bitter Lord. Nor the vomit. He likes it. It is top-class disgusting.’

‘The Bitter Lord? Are we heading to Voldemort?!‘

“Yes, although I serve Dumbledore, I am selfish, and I will sacrifice you for my own good. Can you walk?’  
‘Yeah, I guess. All right, son, as you say, let’s come to Voldy, everything for you. I can see that you are self-sacrificing, selfless and good-hearted, just like daddy and mummy.’

Severus just rolled his eyes into a cinnamon roll and watched in disappointment as Potter stood up. What would he give to have at least a one more moment when he could drag him over the stumps and watch his head bang romantically to the rhythm of samba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shamelessly admit that I didn’t come with the idea of world turning one colour. Some work, the kind which inspired me to write this horrendous trash, dealt with world turning blue, which was for a reason I don’t know of really disastrous and apocalyptic. Oh no, bad fruit, the blue kiwis, beware of blue kiwis!!!
> 
> Did you see any pics? No. Because I lied.   
I did want to put it here, but ItSTOodIfFIcULt. (Maybe maybe I will upload it later. Maybe at the occasion of the new millenium in a couple of years... We shall see.)


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